


a rush at the beginning (i get caught up)

by emptyswimmingpools



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Awkward Dates, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Ghost Hunting, Kissing, Lack of Communication, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 11:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13433475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptyswimmingpools/pseuds/emptyswimmingpools
Summary: They still act like best friends, but sometimes Ryan will hold his hand underneath the desk at work, sometimes Shane will gently press a kiss against Ryan’s cheek at the end of the day, sometimes the air around them changes and their eyes meet in a way that’s so stripped, so knowing and open, it’ll leave Shane’s knees weak and his head heavy.They talk about ghosts. They talk about popcorn. They talk about anything and everything, but they don’t talk about - this. Them. The possibility - no, thecertainty- that their relationship is shifting, transitioning.





	a rush at the beginning (i get caught up)

iii.

Shane is sat comfortably on Ryan’s sofa, beer in his hands, room around him still and beige. The TV plays a basketball match, but Shane couldn’t focus even if he liked the sport, because Ryan’s thigh is pressed against his and he’s over-analysing every move they both make, how when Ryan gets excited his eyes light up and he leans forward, closer to the TV, further from Shane but it doesn’t matter.

And when the other team score a goal (a hoop? How does basketball even _work_ ) he sinks back into the crease of the couch, but he’s just a little bit closer than before, a subtle movement he wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t hyper-aware of everything right now. It feels right, to be like this, but there’s a part of him that’s still uncomfortable, thinks he should rewind and say no to the invite, or scoot to the other side, like he shouldn’t feel this way. Because it’s nothing. Nothing. He’s not going to pay attention to the back of his head, he’s just going to sit, groan appropriately and sip languidly on his drink.

It happens so suddenly, he’s not quite sure _how._ But somewhere between the first and last shot (he still doesn’t know what to call it), Ryan’s cheering, Shane’s looking over at him in complete and utter awe, like he doesn’t ever want him to not be this excited, and it happens. Ryan’s face turns from happy to curious, and his eyebrow raises, and he exhales heavily, moving so Shane can feel his breath on his cheekbone, and he kisses him.

Shane decides that this isn’t something he can ignore as he pushes against Ryan, turns to face him a bit more so he’s not straining his neck, rests his hand on Ryan’s thigh. It’s not an insanely long kiss, and it’s not obscene, either, but it makes Shane feel giddy and bubbly.

Ryan smiles at him and Shane doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he takes another sip of his beer, and asks if Ryan enjoyed the game.

Breathless and gazing into the taller man’s eyes, Ryan says, “Yeah,” and Shane hopes for a second he’s not _really_ talking about the game.

 

i.

It’s not quite all of a sudden, not like a bolt of lightning. But there’s a part of Shane that’s still taken aback by it, by how intense it is. It hurts, in an almost physical way, that he can’t quite label the feeling, because he _needs_ to have that anchor or he’ll feel himself float away right in front of Ryan.

Ryan.

His - co-host? Potentially. Shane has this realisation, this ‘oh, fuck, I - feel something’ while he’s reading Ryan’s text:

**Brent’s been moved, IDK what’s going to happen to Unsolved.**

And his immediate response is something like: I’ve got to help him somehow. Because really, no good friend wants their friend to be sad. But there’s a line, a thick, clear line between being a good friend and being a good friend who has _feelings_ for your friend, and maybe that’s OK, it’s normal, but Shane doesn’t quite feel that way.

He doesn’t believe in fate. He doesn’t believe in a _lot_ of things, but he thinks, if he did, he’d perhaps believe that this - Ryan - is fate. The Universe putting him on puppet strings and saying, “You’re meant to do this. This text? It’s an opportunity.”

Shane tells it, “OK, man. Whatever.” He sends the text.

 

iv.

They don’t talk about it. What happened. But something between them changes.

They still act like best friends, but sometimes Ryan will hold his hand underneath the desk at work, sometimes Shane will gently press a kiss against Ryan’s cheek at the end of the day, sometimes the air around them changes and their eyes meet in a way that’s so stripped, so knowing and open, it’ll leave Shane’s knees weak and his head heavy.

But when Eugene tells them he’s hosting a party, they look at each other, and Ryan’s head quirks a bit, Shane smiling tentatively, and that’s that. In a simple motion, they’ve decided they’re going together without words. That’s the new dynamic.

They talk about ghosts. They talk about popcorn. They talk about anything and everything, but they don’t talk about - this. Them. The possibility - no, the _certainty_ \- that their relationship is shifting, transitioning.

 

vi.

Sara says to him the day after Eugene’s party, “So. You and Ryan.” She’s not cornering him, but it feels like it, because Sara is so nice in that way you feel obliged to be honest with her. He shrugs, makes a face, because it’s indirectly the truth. He doesn’t know. She stares at him.

“Me and Ryan,” he repeats. Like he’s testing the words out, seeing how they fit rolling from his tongue, lips stretching around the words. He says it and the words hang in the air, because he didn’t exactly say _Me and Ryan_ , but rather: _Me-and-Ryan_. A conjoined unit. An… item.

She asks, “The party?” Shane nods. “Did you - Jen told me - at the party?” her words are broken like she’s trying to be careful, searching for just the right words. Shane nods again. “Really?” Another nod. “That’s great, Shane.”

He makes a noise akin to a _pfft._ “I guess,” is what he says.

Sara rolls her eyes. “You haven’t spoken to him, have you?”

And that’s when Shane realises that communication needs to happen, because not knowing is _tiring._ He’s anxious and he doesn’t want to mess this up and he doesn’t know why they haven’t talked about it before, so he smiles, wide, and puts a hand on her shoulder. He exclaims, “Thanks!” and Sara looks confused, but he runs off before she can ask what he means.

 

x.

They can’t ignore what happened forever, because they sit next to each other at work. So Shane casually announces, “I’m bad with words,” while Ryan’s doing some editing for the most recent _Unsolved_ episode, Shane’s brainstorming ideas for a new show on history, and Ryan takes his headphones off.

“Stating the obvious, much?” replies Ryan, stoic.

“I’m bad with words,” he repeats, “and I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.”

Ryan sighs, turns to face him. He takes his hand in-between his own, interlocking their fingers, and Shane smiles sadly. “I’m sorry, too.”

Shane confesses, “I want - _need_ \- this to work out. Us, you know.” He doesn’t say: _I’ve never felt like this before._ He doesn’t say: _I would do anything you asked of me._ He doesn’t say: _I love you_ , but he thinks Ryan hears it in his sincerity, because he’s smiling and nodding like he understands and Shane’s words aren’t jumbled and chaotic.

Ryan barely whispers, “Me too.” They get back to work.

 

viii.

Their first date is not exactly a date. They go to Starbucks after work, because Ryan wants to try the new special flavour they have, and Shane pays because he’s a Goddamn gentleman. Their fingers are linked under the table, but they’re not quite holding hands. It’s an almost, a nearly there, a step away from the finishing line.

Shane’s drink is nearly finished; he’s jittery in a way where he can’t tell if it’s due to the caffeine or Ryan. Because he’s sat here, two feet apart from his not-boyfriend, he’s anxious and he doesn’t know what to say. So he lets Ryan do all the talking, watches as he explains the theory of ghosts or something, but Shane’s vision is starting to blur and he can’t concentrate on his voice. He thinks Ryan asks him if he’s OK, but he isn’t entirely certain, because before he knows it, he’s stood up, shaking his head, saying, “I can’t do this.”

Ryan says, “Oh.” Shane leaves.

 

v.

They kiss at the party again, and it’s not just a kiss. Ryan’s biting his lip and Shane’s hand is wandering down, down, and everything is so intense Shane is using the wall he’s pushed against as an anchor so he doesn’t fall. But his guard is down, and with his tongue in his best friend’s mouth, this is when he realises he loves Ryan.

He _loves_ him, and he kisses him more intensely at this realisation, like he’s trying to communicate it without breaking apart.

He thinks he hears a voice _WOOP!_ at them distantly, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. Ryan’s hand moves to thread in Shane’s hair; he lets out a soft noise.

It’s not perfect. The music is loud, the room is full, and the kiss is messy. But somehow, against all odds, it’s still - perfect. Because it’s so _them_ , how awkward it is, how wonderful and honest it is. Like the absolute contradiction makes it more real and less like a fantasy, something he’d dream about and feel his stomach sink because it won’t happen. Except it has. Is. _Will._

vii.

Shane spots Ryan at the coffee machine, and he says, “I need to talk to you,” because if he doesn’t now, he won’t be able to bring himself to do it later. He’s running entirely on adrenaline and the memory of Ryan’s lips pressed against his own. Ryan looks, confused, as expected, but motions his hand in a way that says ‘yeah, OK, I’m listening’.

“I don’t - so, we’re ignoring this.”

“I guess we are,” Ryan replies, shocked, like this was unexpected. It’s been brewing for so long, it was bound to boil over and come out. He laughs, almost mockingly. Ryan continues, “Look, Shane, I don’t know what we’re doing here. What this is.”

Shane questions, “You think I do, either?”

Ryan shrugs, but he’s smiling in a way that suggests he wants to figure it out. He walks away.

 

ix.

He can feel the awkwardness lingering in the air like it’s weighing his lungs down in his chest, and he hates it. They’re shooting on location again, and he’s trying to play the part, bantering with Ryan where necessary, but the crew can tell something between them is wrong and stilted.

“Can you just get your shit together, man?” Ryan exclaims, angry, and Shane knows he’s not just talking about the _Unsolved_ episode.

They try again and Shane has to excuse himself, because he keeps fucking up. Ryan’s pissed at him, he’s pissed at himself, and he knows if Sara could see him right now she’d be pissed, too. Because he should’ve just listened, talked about it properly with Ryan instead of being vague and walking out, and _oh, God._

He spends approximately five minutes calming himself down before returning, and he still stumbles, but they get the shoot done. They don’t talk in the car back, except for when Ryan says, “Fuck you, dude,” at a particularly bad driver they pass.

 

xi.

Their second date is tentative yet secure. Shane knows he can’t fuck it up, their relationship is on thin ice, but they end up seeing a movie together which makes it harder to say the wrong thing. They go back to Shane’s after, holding hands on the walk from the theatre to his apartment, and they talk loudly and enthusiastically like they’re the only people in the world, even when a drunkard across the street tells them to ‘shut the fuck up’.

Shane’s apartment isn’t on the large side: it’s small but has enough room. It feels almost claustrophobic right now, like it’s pushing them closer together, fusing the bond between them. He doesn't think he’s ever welcomed fear like this before - he’s a timid man, as he’s said - but every part of him is glad for it.

The thing that allows him to accept being scared is the notion that fear won’t last forever. Because their relationship is new at the moment, and he will grow into it, grow less afraid and more comfortable. That’s how transitions work. That’s how _they_ work, because Shane has mapped the flow of their interactions for months now, and they always find their way back to each other, like two magnets, or heck, even a ghost that can’t part from its energy source for too long.

When the night ends, Shane says, “I love you,” but it comes out like this: “I had fun tonight.”

Ryan replies, “I love you, too,” but it sounds more like: “I’ll see you tomorrow, big guy.”

 

ii.

They’re shooting an episode on location - the Halloween special, the one with the island and the Sallie house and Ryan’s wide, wide eyes. And no, Shane’s not a sadist, he doesn’t like seeing Ryan panicked, but there’s a difference between the sort of scared where you can laugh and smile and know it’s going to be OK and the sort where you’re on the verge of a panic attack. Ryan’s at the former.

The Sallie house, on the outside, looks unintimidating. Shane doesn’t believe in the supernatural, ghosts, demons, the lot - but he’s scared. He’s scared because he’s spending the night with Ryan, and his heart is doing somersaults in his chest.

It’s unconventional. They have sleeping bags, and they’re on the fucking _floor_ , but Ryan’s scooting closer to him and Shane laughs and _God_ , he doesn’t know what he’s doing. At all. He’s been winging this - the ebb of their dynamic - in true Shane Madej fashion.

He says what he’s thinking beyond the nagging, lingering voice in the back of his head that says: _RYAN._ All caps, like a shout, like a cry for him to recognise and acknowledge just what it means.

Shane leaves the voice alone and focuses on debunking every Goddamn theory Ryan presents about this stupid house. And though Ryan protests, he’s laughing, and this is the exact moment Shane realises he’d do anything to see Ryan smile and laugh like this - with his whole body, and not just his mouth. But he doesn’t think: _I’m fucked_ , because Ryan tries hard to make him laugh, too, and Shane feels inclined to hold onto the last bit of hope he has.

Instead, he thinks: _This is going to work out._

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is [ghoulboi](https://ghoulboi.tumblr.com) u know the drill
> 
> n-l narrative insp by [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13395117) amazin story
> 
> title from [the louvre](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZQkdwymDanE) by lorde
> 
> i had to upload this three times im so tired


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